


Riddle Me This

by Spinning_In_Infinity



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Gotham (TV), Nygmobblepot - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, And a bit of fluff, Blow Job, Ed nygma - Freeform, Edward Nygma - Freeform, Established Relationship, Just smut, M/M, No Angst, Oswald Cobblepot - Freeform, Riddler - Freeform, Rim job, Sex Games, can be considered either canon or au, definitely want to do more with these babies in the future, if you think riddles are kinky, kinda kinky sex, penguin - Freeform, riddle games, which ed definitely does
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-25 00:33:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21108533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spinning_In_Infinity/pseuds/Spinning_In_Infinity
Summary: "I may be simple, I may be complex; I may have a name, but no gender or sex. I am often a question, or statements as a setup; I always have an answer, until found I will never let up. What am I?"Ed has a new game he wants to play with Oswald - for every riddle he guesses correctly, the more fun the two of them will have.





	Riddle Me This

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mikazure](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikazure/gifts).

> Hello! So I've fandom-hopped for this one! Thanks to the glorious mikazure, I've gotten back into Gotham, and Ed and Ozzy are my sweet psycho fandom babies. 
> 
> I know my Spideypool stuff has been slow lately, especially with my WIPs, but they will be done. I'm finally getting back into writing again after about a year, and each new piece is a better chance I'll continue my old stuff! Thank you for you unlimited patience, those who are waiting for new chapters of You Are The Sun and Wish For The Moon.

Oswald gave a yelp of surprise as the book he was reading was ripped from his hands and tossed carelessly to one side.

“What—?” he looked up into the face of his lover, a mischievous glint sparkling behind his spectacles. “Do you mind?”

Ed tugged at the hem of Oswald’s jacket sleeve, that impatient jitter in his movements that always preluded some risqué boudoir activity. Rolling his eyes, Oswald nonetheless allowed Ed to drag him towards the bedroom. The sheets were still rumpled from the night before, leather handcuffs still fastened to the wrought-iron headboard.

“So I had this brilliant idea,” Ed said, hastily disposing of his sweater and starting to work on Oswald’s. “You need to be naked.”

“That’s it? Not exactly original,” Oswald raised an eyebrow, letting Ed push his smart jacket and shirt off his shoulders to the ground. They’d be dusty after, but Oswald would let Ed fry bacon over his bare chest if he asked.

Ed impatiently waved Oswald’s sarcasm to one side. “This is just setting the scene.”

He unfastened Oswald’s slacks and pulled them down, helping the other man to step out of his shoes, revealing the archaic sock suspenders strapped to his pale ankles. Oswald liked to be smart, even at home. When he wasn’t draped in an expensive silk robe, he was still in full suit. The most informal Ed had ever seen him while still fully clothed was the rare occasions when he removed his tie and undid the two top buttons of his shirt.

Once Oswald was sufficiently de-clothed, Ed quickly removed his own (much more casual) pants and undershorts. Oswald felt that familiar pang of envy and self-consciousness as he admired Ed’s body. While not ripped with muscle, he was long and lean and effortlessly beautiful, like a marble statue of a young Adonis. Beside him, Oswald felt short and stunted, his right knee twisted and swollen from the old wound that had never healed; an ugly and gruesome goblin in the shadow of such shining perfection.

He wondered if such bitter thoughts ever pervaded his lover’s mind – whether he sometimes looked at Oswald and saw him for how he truly was, behind the façade of power and dignity he tried so desperately to cling to. If he did, he never showed it, and Oswald was grateful beyond measure.

He basked in the rush of bliss that birthed from Ed’s hands on his face; those deft, slender fingers cradling his jaw like they were made to fit. God had not created a place on his body where those hands hadn’t touched him . . . the pleasure they had scorched into his very bones, none of which he had earned or deserved. A lowly creature caressed by an angel.

Ed lowered his face to meet Oswald’s, their lips a hair’s breadth apart, his sweet breath warm on Oswald’s skin.

“_I may be simple, I may be complex; I may have a name, but no gender or sex. I am often a question, or statements as a setup; I always have an answer, until found I will never let up. What am I?_”

Oswald was so caught up in the orbit of Ed’s touch that, for a moment, he didn’t register what had been said. He blinked and pulled his head back.

“Excuse me?”

“A riddle! Don’t you see? I’m a riddle!” Ed planted a firm kiss on Oswald’s lips, too quick for him to appreciate properly, and pushed him backwards onto the bed. Ed crawled on top of him, his lean frame caging Oswald in, long fingers securing his wrists against the pillows.

“Here’s the deal,” he said. “For every riddle you answer correctly, I’ll do something in return for you.”

_Okay_, Oswald thought. _Doesn’t sound too bad_. He despised riddles, but if it entertained his young companion, what was the harm? He nodded.

“Okay, let’s start small,” Ed hovered his lips over Oswald’s. “_What has an eye, but cannot see?_”

Oswald sighed. “A needle.”

“Correct,” Ed kissed him, threading his elegant fingers through Oswald’s, and he could almost believe he could feel the pulse of Ed’s blood in his wrists beating against his own.

“_What can you hold in your right hand, but not in your left hand?_”

Oswald thought for a second. “Your left hand.”

Ed’s lips trailed down the length of Oswald’s throat, teeth grazing at the tender skin where neck merged into shoulder. One of his hands released Oswald’s and massaged his hip, his mouth settling on Oswald’s left nipple, sucking and licking until it was hard and puckered. Oswald leaned his head back and closed his eyes, his free fingers stroking Ed’s soft hair.

“_I am slim and tall, many find me desirable and appealing_,” Ed’s breath tickled against Oswald’s sensitive chest. “_They touch me and I give a false good feeling. Once I shine in splendour, but only once and then no more. For many I am ‘to die for’_.”

Oswald could feel the receptors in his brain starting to dull. He didn’t want to think, he just wanted Ed to keep on touching him like this, especially now that his fingers were straying tantalisingly close to . . .

Before he could even finish the thought, Ed pulled his hand away, proving he wasn’t kidding when he meant for Oswald to solve a riddle to earn his reward.

“Ugh, fine! Uhh . . .” Oswald ran the damn riddle through his head again. _Slim and tall . . . desirable and appealing_ _. . ._ it sounded like Ed himself, though nothing about the good feelings he provided could be described as false. “A cigarette.”

“Very good,” Ed smiled gleefully, giving Oswald’s nipple a firm flick from his tongue before moving down towards his stomach, both hands hugging the sides of his waist. Oswald automatically sucked in his breath; he wasn’t in the finest shape, but the tickle of Ed’s fingers made it difficult to keep such composure. Oswald closed his eyes and moans as the tip of Ed’s tongue traced a thin line from the root of his genitals to his navel. The upward curve of Oswald’s hard cock pressed against the hollow of Ed’s throat, the head pushing lightly against his chin. 

“_I do not have eyes, but once I did see; I once had thoughts, but now I’m thoughtless and empty_.”

Oswald thanked any Gods still looking down on him that the answer flew to his mind immediately. “A skull, a skull!”

Ed looked almost disappointed at such a quick reply but stayed true to his word, pressing the flat of his tongue against the underside of Oswald’s cock and licking it all the way to the top. As his lips enclosed the waiting head, Oswald’s mouth dropped open, his eyelids sliding shut as he entered that warm, wet heaven. Ed took him in three times, slowly, before releasing him and whispering: “_My tongue is long, my breath is strong, and yet I breed no strife; my voice you hear both far and near, and yet I have no life._”

Oswald growled in frustration, gripping handfuls of his thin black hair. He could just cry uncle, refuse to play this stupid game, but that would imply defeat, and it would never do for Ed to guess even half the power he wielded over him. He needed to continue the belief that Oswald was his match, not a helpless slave to the orgasms he provided.

Gathering a few of his remaining functioning brain cells, he summoned the answer like an animal from a tar-pit: “A bell.”

The sensation of his cockhead being swallowed, pulled into the vacuum of Ed’s throat, was enough to send light popping in front of his eyes. Ed’s hands were fixed on his hips, keeping him down, as he tried to buck into each descent of Ed’s lips. His finger-hold tightened on Ed’s hair, guiding him up and down, keeping him at a speed that was almost enough to—

With a soft _pop_, Ed’s lips freed themselves and he grinned wickedly up at his lover. “_What can be lost, but not returned?_”

“Are you _kidding_ me right now?!” Oswald gasped, raking his nails down his own face in anguish. “Time, right? Fucking time!”

“Huh,” Ed frowned. “That’s not actually the answer I had, but I think I like it better.”

“What was your answer?” Oswald asked, though he barely cared.

“‘Life’,” Ed replied with a shrug. “Ah well, I’ll accept yours.”

“How magnanimous of you,” Oswald said dryly. “Now get back to work.”

Instead of returning his mouth to its former position, Ed hoisted Oswald’s legs over his shoulder, the crook of his knees resting on the taller man’s shoulders, and parted his ass cheeks with both hands. Oswald moaned louder than before as Ed’s tongue flicked against his hole, slipping just inside the tight muscle while his hand worked on Oswald’s cock.

“_When is a bright idea like a clock?_” he whispered, his cool breath making Oswald jump a little.

_‘Who fucking cares?’_ initially sprung to Oswald’s mind, but he maintained calm and let out a long breath. Despite his previous warning, Ed continued to eat him out while he fumbled for the answer.

“Ahhh . . . when . . . when it strikes one . . .” Oswald sighed, craning his neck to watch Ed’s beautiful fingers curled around his cock, those beautiful brown eyes gazing up at him from between his thighs.

Ed removed his mouth entirely and quickly shifted his knees onto the bed, wrapped Oswald’s legs around his hips and moving into position.

His clever mouth quirked wickedly. “_What goes in hard, comes out soft, and is blown constantly?_”

Oswald thought he might pass out in anticipation. He could feel Ed’s cock nudging against his asshole, chomping at the bit in its eagerness to enter. Pushing himself up on his elbows, he slipped a hand round the back of Ed’s neck and pulled him down for a passionate kiss, his tongue searching for every taste Ed’s mouth could offer. He moved his lips closer to Ed’s ear and whispered: “Bubble gum.”

Ed grinned and realigned himself, Oswald letting himself fall back on the sheets as his body parted to allow entry. He moaned loudly, head thrown back, that sweet pain that never grew old tingling through his lower extremities. When Ed was fully sheathed, he let out a long breath.

“_Why is a dirty rug like a bad boy?_”

Were it not for the way Ed’s sweet voice saying “bad boy” made Oswald’s spine shiver, he might have slapped him right across the face. As it was, he took a fistful of Ed’s hair and growled:

“Because they both need beating, now fuck me, damn it!”

At last, Ed began to move in earnest, palms flat against the bed either side of Oswald’s shoulders, his cock plunging in and out of his eagerly welcoming body. Oswald grabbed Ed’s upper arms and tugged him in close, relishing the way their sweaty bodies over each other, biting and sucking at Ed’s lips as he pounded into him. His own rock-hard cock rubbed against Ed’s stomach, the increasing friction causing something hot and powerful to rise deep inside his belly.

“Oh _fuck_, Ed,” he gasped, face twisted in immeasurable ecstasy. “That’s it, baby, oh _God_!”

“Os . . .” Ed buried his face in the crook of his neck, biting down almost hard enough to hurt as Oswald scraped dark red nail-tracks down Ed’s back. “Uhh, you feel . . . so fucking _good . . ._”

“Cum in me, baby,” Oswald begged. “I want you . . . I need to feel you . . .”

Then, inexplicably, maddeningly, Ed slowed his pace, that infuriating trickster grin glinting through the haze of lust. “_Why is a raven like a writing desk?_”

“No!” Oswald began to thrust his own hips, desperately trying not to let the feverish rush of pleasure die. “That one doesn’t have an answer! It _never_ had an answer!”

Ed couldn’t stop himself from moving. It felt too good, even his own game couldn’t keep him from finishing. He sped up, the slapping of flesh on flesh filling the room like a duet of desire. Something told Oswald that if he could just answer the fucking riddle, he could make this the most incredible orgasm Ed had ever experienced, with him or anyone else. He remembered an answer someone had once invented for the famed riddle Lewis Carroll had written never to be solved and, crushing Ed’s body to his, whispered in his ear:

“Because Edgar Allen Poe wrote on both.”

Ed came like a virgin schoolboy, his eyes screwed tight with pleasure, his hips jerking helplessly against Oswald’s ass, and Oswald felt his own orgasm overwhelm him, wash over him in a cascade of feeling. Love, lust, desperation, everything he felt towards Ed – surging forth like bolts of lightning to the tips of his fingers and toes.

They fell into each other, gasping, shaking, silence ringing through the room, broken only by their laboured breathing. Eventually, Ed rolled away, his stomach sticky with Oswald’s ejaculate.

“You know, there’s another answer to that one,” he said.

“Oh yeah?” Oswald still had his eyes closed, basking in the aftershock.

“‘Because both have inky quills’,” Ed replied.

Oswald laughed and turned to face his beloved. They both looked a mess – skin sweaty, hair plastered to their foreheads – but he couldn’t imagine loving Ed more than he did at that moment.

He brushed the backs of his fingers against Ed’s smooth cheek. “You’re the worst.”

Ed smiled and leaned over for a kiss. “Just as well I’m cute, right?”

Oswald rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around him. “Yes, for your sake – because I really fucking hate your riddles.” 


End file.
